The Magician rolled to the bottom of the steps and he found Gran’ma there to meet him; for as soon as the others had started to run, they had released Gran’ma. So Gran’ma waited until old Jingles had stopped rolling, then she rushed at him, and, catching his long nose in her hands, she gave it a tweak. With one scream of pain, the Magician lay still, and as Johnny raised the crooked stick to bring it down upon Jingles’ head, Gran’ma stopped him. “I said I’d tweak his nose,” Gran’ma cried, “and I’ll tweak it again just as soon as he awakens!” Gran’pa sat up and looked around. “Give me another sack of peanuts,” he said. The Magician showed signs of awakening, so Gran’ma gave his long nose another tweak which made him lie still. The Princess called to the people still standing around the door of the Castle. “Call the Guards!” she shouted. “We’ll tie him and keep him chained up for ever!” The voice of their Princess seemed to arouse the people from their numbness and fear and eight Guards came running out from behind the great doors where they had hidden themselves. When the Guards came to pick up the Magician to carry him away Gran’ma pushed them back. “No you don’t!” she told them. “He stays right here while I tweak his nose until he never has another speck of magic in him!” And as the Magician stirred again, Gran’ma gave his long nose another hard tweek. “But Gran’ma,” Janey cried, “the Princess must be obeyed! She wants the wicked creature put in chains and in prison!” “Now, you let me be!” Gran’ma said. “I’m boss here and here he stays until I—” Just as this moment the Dancing Master rushed down the steps and blew a puff from the magic bellows upon the face of old Jingles. It first formed a puffy white cloud, then it settled grain by grain. There was a breathless silence. Gran’ma did not finish what she was about to say, for as the magic powder touched the Magician’s face, his long nose disappeared, his wicked eyes changed and his face took on the appearance of a young man. And as they all watched in wonder and amazement they saw his long, thin fingers change into young hands, and the thin form beneath the torn, dusty clothes alter until a fine young man lay before them. The Dancing Master blew another puff of the powder upon the prostrate form and the old torn clothes changed into silk and velvet. “Dear me!” Gran’ma cried. “Perhaps we have made a mistake! It isn’t old Jingles!” And when the Strange Young Man opened his eyes and saw the crowd standing around him, he ran his hand across his forehead as if trying to recollect something. “Where am I?” he asked. “You are in the City of Nite,” answered the Princess. “Guards, assist him into the Castle!” “I believe I can walk,” said the Strange Young Man, “but I cannot imagine how I got here, for I have never heard of the City of Nite before.” And with this he stood upon his feet.